


Miracle du Sexe

by miizure



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Facials, Implied Consent, Leashes, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Miracle Mask, Sexual Roleplay, this has been on my mind all day lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miizure/pseuds/miizure
Summary: Hershel finds himself in a tricky situation and finds himself doing the Masked Gentleman a... favor, so to speak. A very, very naughty favor. All he has to do is put on a little performance for him. It's simple, really...
Relationships: Hershel Layton/Masked Gentleman, Randall Ascot/Hershel Layton
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Miracle du Sexe

“My, my, now if  _ this _ isn’t the most wonderful sight…”

A door creaks open, letting in light from the hall into a dimly candle-lit room. A pair of fancy white dress shoes poke past the door frame and slowly step inside, revealing a rather  _ handsome _ individual in a matching beige suit, white gloves, and a top hat decorated by a green band. His face was covered by a familiar mask, and his hair concealed by a blonde wig. What used to be the most terrifying sight in Monte d’Or now stood before Hershel, who knelt on the floor in anticipation and  _ slight _ trepidation, remembering the restraint around his neck that was currently keeping his body low to the ground.

He didn’t respond, and simply stared up at the Masked Gentleman, lips pursed in a small frown.

“I can’t believe it was  _ so _ easy to capture the great Professor Layton in my little trap…! Oh, I thought he was smarter than this. It almost makes me want to believe he  _ wanted _ to be caught by me! Foolish man.”

Hershel huffs in frustration and narrows his eyes, but before he would finally speak, a wooden cane suddenly shoots down right between his legs, reminding him of the cool breeze that drifted between them. He’d been stripped of most of his clothing, save for his orange pullover which had been deliberately tugged down in the front to cover his most sensitive area. The cane was inches away from striking him there, which made him shudder in relief.

Drawing the cane back to his hip, the Masked Gentleman leaned forward with his free hand outstretched and grabbed the end of the leash which kept Hershel bound to the bedpost behind him. He now held it with a firm grip and pulled his hand back sharply, jerking Hershel’s head forward.

“I can’t even begin to imagine why you would allow yourself to be subjected to this. What would your little friends think if they happened to see you like this: Mostly naked and bound, with your head so close to a  _ very _ naughty part of my body…”

Once again, Hershel was silent. He grimaces, trying to look away out of embarrassment and respect, but finds the sides of his cheeks gripped and forced back to their original position.

“Ah, ah. All eyes on me. This is  _ my _ personal show, and with you as my only audience, you have no choice but to watch.” He hums, taking more of the leash in hand to pull Hershel’s head even closer, feeling hot breaths begin to ghost his crotch. They were heavy and shaky, clearly showing some form of arousal from the other man. Now if only he could see underneath that pullover….

“C-Curse you…” Hershel mutters through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to hold back his morbid interest in his tone. The Masked Gentleman chuckled darkly.

“‘Curse?’ No, you’re mistaken. You’ve been caught in my next dark miracle, Layton. I assure you that whatever happens, you’ll at least make it out  _ alive.” _

As if that wasn’t any less unsettling.

“Now, I don’t want to delay this show any longer than it needs to be. You’re the one who’s been given the honor of performing for me tonight, and I expect you to surpass my expectations. It won’t be too difficult, I presume?”

After hesitating for a while, Hershel shook his head and sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Without the use of force, the man pressed his mouth to the Masked Gentleman’s silky trousers, feeling something hard and twitchy against his lips. There’s a muffled inhale above him, indicating a bit of surprise from his subduer. He began to run his tongue along the smooth fabric, outlining the growing bulge and dampening it with saliva.

Hershel leans forward and lets out the tiniest groan, placing his hands on the other man’s thighs. He can feel how toned his body is, after having endured years and years of manual labor. He could also feel how they tensed and twitched beneath his touch.

“Hm! Awfully eager now, are we? I can’t let you ruin this outfit  _ too _ much, now can I?” The Masked Gentleman snickers, shoving Hershel’s head away and allowing himself to burst into laughter once he heard a small whine beneath him. “Aw, were you enjoying yourself? Do you  _ like _ being ordered around by me, Layton?”

Hershel grunts in response and exhales hard through his nose, determined to hide his excitement. The cane slides between his legs again, this time just close enough to gently touch his throbbing member without lifting the pullover covering it. Once he felt the hard resistance, the Masked Gentleman withdrew the cane again. Had it not been for the mask covering his face, Hershel could’ve seen the man beneath it smirking in satisfaction.

“I thought you were a gentleman. Gentlemen don’t allow themselves to engage in such  _ salacious _ acts, now do they? Yet here you are, casting that formal act aside and trying to pleasure me through my pants. Not to mention that you’re also hiding your ever-so-evident arousal from me…” He teases, tossing the cane to the floor with a loud clatter. With his newly freed hand, he slips it under his suit jacket and fumbles with what sounds like a belt, undoing it hastily and working on the buttons of his trousers next. Hershel bit his lower lip and watched as the front of his pants and underwear were tugged down, revealing a moderately large length that sprang out in his face, crowned by a thick plume of red hair. He felt a tightness between his legs as the heat that had pooled in his underbelly grew more intense, longing for stimulation of any kind.

Surprisingly, despite allowing himself to engage in acts of sexual natures, Hershel absolutely refused to touch himself. No matter how badly his body screamed for pleasure, he couldn’t do it.

“Heh… What’s wrong, Layton? Stage fright?”

“As if,” he retorts, glaring up at him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Must I do everything myself?” He sighs, tugging on the leash again. Hershel resisted this time. “You’re like a stubborn mutt. Very well, if I simply  _ must _ spell it out for you…”

The tip of his member was pressed right against his lips, lightly coating them in the precum that dripped freely from it. The heady odor invaded his nostrils, causing him to breathe out hard through his mouth as he took it in. It wasn’t… unpleasant. It was rather familiar, actually. He knew the scent quite well. This obviously wasn’t the first time…

“ **_Suck._ ** ”

The command was simple, yet firm enough to send shivers down Hershel’s spine. Without a second thought, he began to cover the Masked Gentleman’s length in kisses and light licks, taking the shaft in his hand and holding it steady for easier access. A soft but deep moan sounded from behind the mask. Hershel saw it as a good sign and continued his little movements, now swirling his tongue over the head and lapping up the clear fluid that oozed from it. He didn’t mind the taste, surprisingly, but could only tolerate it for so long. 

While the moans and pleased hums continued, Hershel began to detect boredom in the other man’s voice. Perhaps he wasn’t doing something right…?

Before he could even think about it, a hand was roughly placed on his head, gripping his hair firmly.

“Sheesh. Is it really that hard for you? No more kitten licks, you damned _tease._ **_If you can’t do it yourself, then I suppose I’ll have to show you._** ”

...Oh dear.

The tip of the Masked Gentleman’s dick was shoved into Hershel’s mouth, continuing on to press more and more of his length down his throat until his lips touched the base. Hershel gagged reflexively, and the man’s hips were pulled back. He coughs and takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard a few times before the other’s hips snapped forward again, this time not as far, but just enough to fill his entire mouth still. As he drew his hips back and forth repeatedly, finding a rough, but steady rhythm.

Hershel moans around his engorged member and tries his best to wrap his tongue around it with each thrust, hoping to add just a bit more pleasure to the Masked Gentleman’s liking. By the pleased hums, he could tell they were working. He could barely look up at him, and regardless of the expression he was making, it couldn’t be seen behind the mask.

Knowing who was wearing it, though, he imagined half-lidded eyes and a devilish smirk spread across his lips glancing down at him.

“Such a  _ filthy _ man you are! Willingly taking me in your mouth, letting me use you like a cheap  _ toy. _ Such scandalous information only I get to be privy to! How lucky of me…” He cackles between deep grunts. Hershel feels the heat in his cheeks burn brighter than before. Being treated so poorly by this man… Oh, how he hated it, but how it ignited a fire in his loins…! Hershel felt his own need pulse between his thighs, and found himself lightly moving his hips against the fabric of his pullover, hoping to get  _ something _ from it, but to little avail. He whines loudly in frustration.

“Oh? Do you like that? Do you like when I reduce you to nothing but mere rubbish? Does it make you want to touch yourself?”

If he could nod, he would. But he still refused to let his hands cross that area.

“So, so  _ dirty. _ I must say, you have quite a wonderful mouth. So  _ hot _ and  _ wet _ and  _ tight. _ You were  _ made _ to take my cock.”

Such vile words…! Hershel could hardly believe his ears. His mind was beginning to haze as intense desire gripped his entire body, only wishing to please and be pleased. His head bobbed with each aggressive thrust past his lips, and he felt his own saliva rolling down his chin. God, he must’ve looked  _ disgusting _ with how much of a mess he was making. The leash was pulled taut, forcing his head in place and taking the brunt of each powerful thrust delivered to him.

“You’re doing quite well, Layton. I’m impressed. In fact, I-  _ ah- _ can feel myself nearing my end…” The Masked Gentleman lets out a heavy sigh and a low groan, bringing a hand up to his face and sliding it under his mask. In a matter of seconds, one of his white gloves was slipped off to reveal a dark hand that fell to his hip. The glove was tossed away with a flick of his head, and now the hand slowly crept over to his abdomen, resting itself there while the other gloved hand pulled the leash away from him. His length slid out of Hershel’s mouth with an obscene  _ pop _ .

“Ah… Keep your mouth open for me…” He breathes, finally reaching down to stroke himself rapidly. Hershel obliged, even going as far as to stick his tongue out while he waited for the Masked Gentleman to finish.

With a loud, shaky cry that roared out from beneath the mask, Hershel shut his eyes instinctively as he felt hot seed splash across his face, coating it nicely with a few final spurts that shot into his mouth and across his tongue. It was quite possibly the most awful look for a gentleman such as himself. His face and hair were ruined, and now the only thing on his mind was his desperate need for release. 

When the grip on the leash was released, he collapsed onto his back, no longer caring to cover himself. With his thighs spread wide apart, his pullover finally slipped off of him and uncovered his swollen, leaking member to the man standing over him.

“Good boy.” He praises, tucking himself back into his trousers and dropping down to his knees. “What a wonderful show you put on for me! I daresay you deserve a small reward for helping me…”

A warm hand firmly wrapped itself around his member, causing Hershel to yelp in surprise. Finally, after waiting so patiently, he was getting the attention he craved. It didn’t take long, either. Only a few hard pumps and he found his back arched up to the sky with a sharp wail, orgasm ripping through his entire body so violently that he managed to get his face dirtied even more now with his own seed mixed in with what was already there while still staining his shirt and the Masked Gentleman’s hand.

* * *

Once the high faded and gave way to post-orgasmic bliss, Hershel lay sprawled across the floor, chest heaving. His eyes fluttered shut, and he listened to the Masked Gentleman’s footsteps encircle him. He heard something rustling, and something solid being placed on a surface, then returned to his position and crouched down in front of him.

When he opened his eyes, he no longer saw a masked face looking back.

There was a wild explosion of red hair on the man’s head and a warm smile on his face.

“How was that? Did you like it?” He asks, wiping Hershel’s face with a damp cloth. He was too weak to stand or move, but gave him a small nod in reply.

“Yes…” He whispers, hands twitching as if they wanted to wrap around the other man in an embrace. “You were very good, Randall…”

“Good! I think I want to do this again sometime. Y’know, if that’s okay with you. I was worried I got a little rough there.” Randall unfastens the collar around Hershel’s neck and moves it aside, running his fingers along the soft skin to check for any signs of injury. Of course, Hershel would have told him if it was too tight or if he was in pain, but he had to make sure.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Hershel sighs, finally finding the strength to sit up. He went to try and cover himself again, but his shirt was far too dirty for it. He shyly slipped it off over his head and threw it to the floor beside him, bringing his knees up to his chest. Randall found it amusing how even after blowing him, Hershel still tried to be modest. Out of respect, he stood up again and walked over to the dresser, where his trousers and underwear were neatly folded on top, and handed them off to him.

“I’ll have Henry wash this for you, so no need to worry,” he says, picking up the soiled shirt. Hershel dresses himself rather quickly.

“Oh… Thank you, Randall. Um, if you don’t mind, while you’re out there--”

“Yes, I’ll bring back tea.”

“ _ Thank you, _ Randall.”

The redhead laughs and places a soft kiss on Hershel’s forehead, taking one last look at him before leaving the room still neatly dressed in his suit and… wearing a single glove.

Oh well.

**Author's Note:**

> cant believe im the very first person to write post-mm ranlay smut lol thats kind of sad actually
> 
> twitter: [@reIicuum](http://twitter.com/reiicuum)


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